


Fallen Warrior

by lar_laughs



Category: D&D - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Tik Tok made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25142797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/pseuds/lar_laughs
Summary: There's this really great group of D&D players on Tik Tok that have been making fun little snippets together. One, in particular, gave me inspiration to write a little something.For Dnd_crit_happens
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Fallen Warrior

The rain had been falling in sheets since sunrise. None of the spells they’d used on the tent was keeping out the damp but no one seemed interested in doing anything about it. The druid traced a finger over each rivlet of water that ran down the canvas near his bedroll until there was a garden of mushrooms left in the wake of his lethargy. The wizard was curled in a ball in the corner where she’d been ever since casting the protection charms, not caring about anything but her misery.

If it hadn’t been for the cleric, they would have all fainted from exhaustion and hunger. He was cooking like there was nothing else more important than using up the last of their rations to create one epic meal. Maybe it was their last meal. Maybe he knew something they didn’t. Maybe he’d finally found a use for the poison he’d bought by accident from the gnarled old woman at the crossroads. It would be a mercy to die with a bowl of his stew in their hands since they’d most likely be up all night with stomach pains. His cooking skills were getting better but they were far from good.

The bard pushed open the tent flap, stooping down to pull off their waterlogged boots. “If this keeps up, the bridge will collapse and we won’t be able to cross the river.”

“Won’t be able to cross the river until the demonspawn are gone. They won’t evaporate until the sun comes up.” The rogue looked up from where she was cleaning her knives, her face a stoic mask that was covering a barely contained fury that no one wanted to deal with right now. “At this rate, the sun will never rise so it won’t much matter what happens with the river.”

“Leave them alone,” growled the druid, turning away from the tent wall to offer a smile of apology to the bard. “Thanks for taking the first watch. Let me get my boots and-”

Before he could get off the bedroll, the rogue was on her feet. “I’ll take next watch. My boots are already on.” She shoved two knives back into place at her waistband, leaving one out to twirl between her fingers as she crossed over to the opening. “Don’t bother keeping the food hot for me. It doesn’t make it taste any better.”

The group looked over at the cleric for a reaction but he just sighed as he continued to stir the contents of the cauldron, his shoulders hunching more than normal.

“I’m sure she didn’t-”

“She did,” the cleric growled, looking over at the bard with a frown. “Don’t try to sugar coat her moods. Haven’t you learned to just ignore her when she gets like this?”

“But she’s hurting.”

“Doesn’t mean she has to take it out on us. We all felt this one.” The druid slumped back on his bedroll, staring up at the damp ceiling as if it held the answers that would make their group complete again. “We all lost a friend. At least we had the decency to be there to see her buried properly. Would have been nice to have help with the digging.”

The wizard lifted her head, tear streaks etched down her pale cheeks. “I told you I could do a spell that would have made it go faster.”

“She would have hated for you to waste a spell on her like that.” The bard spoke gently but then everything about the halfling was gentle. “It was better this way.”

“Better for who?” But the druid lapsed into silence when the bard glared... gently, of course.

No one bothered to check on the rogue. They ate the meager stew that tasted more of turnips than anything else. They fell into an uneasy sleep, crooned to slumber by the baying of the hell beasts pacing the boundaries of their campsite as they looked for a weakness in the protection spells.

If they had checked on her, they might have seen her fall to her knees next to the freshly turned earth. They might have seen tears leak from her eyes, mingling with the rain. They might have heard her strangled words. The might have been surprised to see such a shocking outpouring of emotion. 

The demonspawn lapped up her misery. The hell beasts sang along with her cries of remorse. Rain continued to pour from the dark, overburdened clouds. In the distance, a glow began to warm the horizon but the rogue was too wrapped up in her regret to see that salvation was at hand. Once again, she wasn't concentrating on the very thing she needed to be watching.


End file.
